


The Fortuneteller's Daughter

by Wallwalker



Category: Dragon Quest VIII
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 19:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallwalker/pseuds/Wallwalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Left to his own devices, Angelo attempts to find a pretty girl to keep him company in Farebury.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fortuneteller's Daughter

Angelo was bored out of his mind.

Oh, he had no particular dislike for backwater towns or quiet pubs. He just didn't like to spend too much time in them, not without appropriate feminine companionship. Farebury was a horribly conservative place, the sort where it was impossible to find said companionship. Why, the waitress at this little pub had been downright horrified when he'd made a pass at her! She'd acted like he had been about to offer her money for it. Surely he didn't look like that sort of man, did he?

He supposed that he could have just gone with the others. At least then he would've had some company. But he hadn't felt like it, not that the time. It wasn't that he minded their company, not really - especially not lovely young Jessica, whom he was confident he'd eventually be able to convince to see him in a better light. But sometimes he simply needed to be left alone, and to be able to think and consider things for himself. Besides, as he'd said to them when they'd parted company, he did not officially approve of the sorts of things that they were in Farebury to do, or of the sort of people that they had come there to consult.

"You're joking, right?" Jessica had said hotly as he'd bowed out of their little gathering. "You're actually offended by fortunetelling? You?"

Angelo had laughed it off, waving away her objections with a smile. "The Goddess frowns on pagan attempts to divine the fates that She has chosen for them," he'd said, trying not to think of the time he'd consulted a card reader who had passed by the Abbey for shelter. He'd been whipped for that one, he remembered, and Marcello himself had done the whipping, which was always the worst. "I think it would be best if I wasn't present. One wouldn't want anyone to get the impression that the Templars approve of such things."

"Please," she had shot back, rolling her eyes, seemingly oblivious to the amused audience. Granted, the audience had only consisted of three individuals - four, if you counted Medea - and only one of them had been obviously amused. Yangus had been trying to hide the fact that he was giggling behind his hand, and not succeeding. Loto had simply looked bemused, and King Trode had rolled his eyes so far back that Angelo had feared that his face would turn inside out. "You're a drunk and a womanizer, but you can't tolerate a little bit of harmless fortune-telling? If you're trying to be rid of us, Angelo, at least be honest about it!"

"It's not that," he'd said, momentarily stung into an honest reaction. "Well... maybe it is that, a bit. Maybe I do need a bit of time to myself." He'd sighed, recovering his composure as best he could. "Anyway, I personally don't care about fortunetelling one way or the other. But I'm probably the only Templar this place is going to see for a very long time, and I suppose that I ought to try to keep up appearances for once. Besides, I can't drink or womanize if I'm sitting and waiting for an old woman to finish staring at some cards, can I?"

"It's not - oh, never mind," she'd said, shaking her head. "I suppose that if you're not interested, you're not interested."

"'Ere, now, let's jus' leave 'im to 'is own devices," Yangus had chimed in, the sound of laughter still audible in his voice. "If th' Goddess really feels that way 'bout fortune-tellin', we might not want 'im to be there anyway. Might muck things up right proper, an' all."

"We certainly can't force him to come along," Loto had agreed, shrugging his shoulders. "We'll finish up and come back as soon as we can, Angelo. Where should we meet you?"

"Three guesses," Jessica had muttered, "and the first two don't count."

"Right, see you at th' pub, then," Yangus had said brightly.

Really, though, Angelo had started to wish that he'd gone along with the others, appearances be damned. When had he ever cared about appearances, anyway? Jessica had been right. He was a terrible Templar. But... he supposed that he had to do something, didn't he? Maybe if he did things right once in a while he wouldn't feel so bad about doing things wrong so many other times. It didn't make much sense, and he knew it, but sometimes it worked anyway.

He just wished that there were more pretty girls there, or at least pretty girls who didn't look at him like he was some kind of common reprobate when he preopsitioned them. He was sharing the pub with old men and fighters, and as much as he liked a good scrap, these didn't seem like the sorts of people who were going to be angry enough to fight as the evening wore on. They'd just get more docile, calmer, less inclined to start trouble. Angelo was going to find no distraction there.

He sighed, stood up, tossed a few coins on the counter. "My tab, sir," he said, smiling as best he could at the barkeeper.

"Thank you, sir," the thin man said, looking at him, his face betraying nothing. "I'd thought you'd settled in for the night."

"Yes, well, I think that I've had enough for tonight," he said. "A walk around the town might clear my head. I'm not as interested in the drink tonight as I'd thought I was."

"Very well, good sir, and thank you."

"Of course." Angelo gave the waitress one last wink as he walked out of the pub, but she just glared at him narrowly. He sighed slightly, shook his head.

"Oh, and sir, I do apologize for my wife's manners," he heard the bartender shout as he walked out of the door.

"Hm? Ah, right, I see." He blinked, then looked back at her. She didn't give him the chance to apologize, just glared at him one last time before turning and walking over to the bar.

Goddess, how hadn't he seen it? He was losing his edge, no doubt about that. He'd spent too much time trying to charm Jessica lately and not enough time trying to charm... well, anyone else. He needed to try to find another girl, someone that he could spend a pleasant evening with - someone who wasn't as strong-willed or troublesome. He hadn't had someone like that in a long time.

He was considering this, walking down the steps to the courtyard, when someone caught his eye. He turned his head, saw exactly the sort of girl he'd been thinking about, a slim and pretty little thing with pigtails in her long dark hair. She was laughing at some joke that one of the merchants had made, and was carrying a basket of herbs on one arm, no doubt to make tea for an old mother, or a grandfather. She did not look like the sort who got out and saw the world very much. He smiled, feeling a bit of his high spirits come back. It should be easy to convince her to spend the evening with him. Play up an image of a handsome stranger from far away, on a journey, struck by her beauty. She'd be putty in his hands, no doubt. The innocent ones always were. She might be a bit younger than he liked, but it wasn't as if he was a dirty old man, and he'd known women who'd been married for years who looked no older. Surely there'd be no problem.

He approached her as she turned away from the merchant, after taking a moment to check on his uniform - yes, he was clean, and he looked remarkably sharp, at least in his own opinion. "Excuse me, Miss," he said, hesitating slightly before smiling at her. Never look like you were trying to turn on the charm too early, he always said. Always play it up for a while.

"Oh! Hello, sir. Are you travelling?" Angelo did not recognize this girl's accent. She did not sound like anyone else from Farebury that he'd heard so far. She sounded a bit familiar, but he couldn't place it... not at the moment. "I don't recall seeing you here before..."

"Yes, well, this is my first time here, and I'm a bit out of place, I'm afraid." He rubbed his forehead with one gloved hand. "I've been traveling a very long way, you see. I've only just had time to rest..."

"I see! Well, I can show you around town a bit, if you'd like. Oh, but I'm being terribly rude! I must introduce myself." She extended one hand. "My name is Valentina."

"Angelo of Maella Abbey, at your service," he said, taking her hand and kissing her fingers lightly. "And that's very generous of you, but I wouldn't dream of keeping you from your errands."

"Oh, it is all right. My father is currently busy with his work, and it has been particularly difficult for him today. I thought that he would appreciate some tea after he finished... oh, but I talk too much. It is a pleasure to meet you, Angelo. Are you really from so far away?"

"Yes, well, as I said, I've been traveling for a long time." He fell in step beside her as she started to walk. "The life of a Templar means that one must travel a lot. It's not a terrible life, but I do wish I could have a few more nights of rest."

"Oh, that sounds so exciting! I do wish I could travel, but my father... well, he says that I must wait until I am older." She seemed abashed by that, a bit. "I'd very much like to hear some of your stories, if you wouldn't mind too much?"

"It would be my pleasure," he said. So it was a protective father. Well, that would make things a bit more difficult, but not impossible by any means. In a way, he relished the difficulty; it always made things more interesting. "As for your father, I can understand him wanting to keep such a beautiful young lady safe. Perhaps someday you will be able to travel. If I could only stay, I would be happy to guard you on such a journey."

She giggled. "You are too kind," she said. "Come, follow me. I'll buy us some food at the market, and we can walk around town and have something to eat. You must be hungry after coming such a long way!"

"Yes, I'd like that very much. But I'll pay for our meals, of course. It's the least I can do."

The girl giggled. Angelo allowed himself a moment of smug satisfaction, although of course he didn't let it show; he'd learned long ago that letting things like that show on his face was a good way of undoing all of his hard work. Still, he was doing quite well for himself. Maybe Farebury wasn't so bad after all. Or maybe he'd just forgotten the main benefit of backwaters - the fact that the girls weren't very worldly at all and needed someone like him to show them the ways of the world. He was doing them a service, really.

The girl moved lightly on her feet as they walked over to the market stall. She was all smiles - Angelo had barely had to make an effort. He wondered, what sort of father did she have? Some sort of laborer, no doubt... maybe he worked in the fields, or maybe he was some sort of craftsman. Someone who worked extraordinarily hard, she had said, especially today - hard enough that she had felt the need to treat him with special care. He wondered if he was a cruel man... no, surely not. Young women with cruel fathers had a certain way about them, a beaten look that never failed to make him feel sorry for them. He was nicest to those girls; he knew how difficult it could be, having the only family that one knew be a cruel, unkind bastard every single day. He hated the accusation that so many people made of him, that he had no care for the girls that he seduced. He did his best to be genuinely good to them, even though he only knew them for a short time. It was just too easy for them to run together in his mind; most of the time he would not have remembered their names, if he had met one of them on the street. There were just too many of them.

This girl did not have that look about her, at least. She seemed healthy, well-adjusted... cheerful, for the most part. She did seem a bit lonely, and really wanted someone to listen to her stories. As long as he was willing to pay attention to her tales of life in Farebury, he was sure he'd have no trouble. It would be dull, of course. This place was not the sort of place where interesting things happened. As much as he despised certain memories that he had that were associated with Argonia - mostly anything involving their spoiled little princeling - at least the town itself had been somewhat interesting. That burned-out shell of a building was probably the most excitement that they'd ever had. Maybe someone had left a candle burning too long, or some such. He'd have to ask Loto about it later.

"Valentina, welcome!" the man at the stall shouted. "And... who is your new friend?" The look that he gave Angelo was... troubling.

Valentina did not seem to notice it. "His name is Angelo. He is a templar from far away." She smiled brightly at the old man. "We would like something good for lunch, if you please."

"Only the best for you, young miss," he said, and smiled, but his eyes were still hard and troubled when he looked at Angelo. He handed Valentina a pair of wrapped bundles, and barely even acknowledged Angelo, even when he handed him the gold for their meals. He seemed to want Angelo to leave as soon as possible.

"That man seems to know you well, " Angelo said, after they'd walked away. "You've lived here for a long time, haven't you?"

"Twelve years, almost," she said. "Thirteen in a few months. My father and I have lived here for some time, and everyone knows us."

Well, that deepened the mystery. But as much as he wanted to ask what sort of work her father did, it seemed rude, and far too presumptous for a woman that he had just met. He did not want to lead her on; he was not that cruel. So he smiled and nodded and walked with her around the town, listened to her point out landmarks and tell stories, and smiled. It was a nice enough town, if one appreciated nature well enough; he'd never been the greatest fan, but he could appreciate it more when she was there. Her excitement was infectious.

After a while they stopped on the outskirts of town, in a grassy field where they could still see the setting sun, and unwrapped their food - sandwiches of sliced meat and cheese on coarse brown bread. They were quite good, though, and the roasted potatoes were tasty as well.

"Are you feeling better, Angelo?" she asked, after they had finished most of their meal.

"Much better, yes." He pulled a flask out of his jacket and took a long pull. "Thank you very much."

"Of course! It's good to have company. Sometimes it can be very dull in this town."

"I had wondered. But there must be something here that people can do to divert themselves?"

She shrugged and smiled. "Oh, we're not completely boring," she said, offhandedly. "A great many entertainers come here from many places. Or they used to, before... well, before Trodain started having such troubles." She sighed. "It's a shame, really. Between that and Master Rylus's unfortunate death, the town has gained something of a reputation for misfortune. I am hoping that the entertainers will come back once things have settled down a bit."

"I hope so," he said, fighting down the urge to ask for details; it was clear that she did not want to speak of misfortune. "I do hope that the problem with Trodain can be settled soon. I... I know a bit about it, you see. It seems a terrible situation."

"My father says the same thing. But I think that everything will work out, in the end." She smiled. "There is something I'd like to show you, if you'd like," she said, in that sweet, thickly accented voice - where had he heard that accent before? He still couldn't remember, and it was really starting to bother him.

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "And what might that be?"

She giggled at that. "Well, I'm no entertainer, mind you, but I know a couple of simple parlor tricks that my father taught me. Perhaps you would like to see one of them?"

"I'd be delighted." Angelo did not hesitate to agree. After all, the first rule of seduction was never to let a woman think that he was uninterested in anything she did. He was sure that her tricks would be very simple - they almost always were - but if he acted as though he was charmed by them, he'd have no problem at all in keeping her company for the evening.

"Oh, wonderful!" she exclaimed, obviously excited to have an audience. "I will just need you to take off one of your gloves."

"Of course, I -" Angelo paused. "I beg your pardon?"

"Take off your right glove," she repeated, reaching for his hand. "I'll need to see your hand for this trick to work."

"Well, all right." He stripped off his glove, a bit reluctantly. "A bit odd, isn't it?"

"Don't be silly! How in the world am I supposed to read your palm if I can't see it?"

"Ah. Oh." He should have guessed. "I really don't... I mean, my superiors really wouldn't approve -"

"They do not have to know, do they?" she said, with a twinkle in her eyes.

"I... no, I suppose not." He might have put up more of a fight if not for the fact that she had already taken his hand in hers. Her grip was surprisingly strong, considering how delicate her hands were. He did not like the chance of his friends coming back and noticing that he'd lied to them. Yes, they already knew, but it was the principle of the thing, really. He might as well keep up appearances, try to pretend that he'd been honest; he'd been trying at the start, and as hard as it was to keep it up, he thought he should at least try....

"Well, then, stop fidgeting! It will make it harder to see the lines of your palm." She turned his hand palm-up, and began to stare at it intently.

He watched her curiously. He could see the lines of concentration on her brow, making her look strangely mature, older than he knew that she was. He felt her fingers brush his hand more strongly, shuddered as if the temperature had dropped. It wasn't that he wasn't used to this sort of thing. He just felt strange about it. With so many of the other women he'd pursued this would have been a transparent attempt at seduction, an excuse to touch his hand and hopefully entice him into something more. But this girl, she seemed completely serious about what she was doing, and that always unsettled him more than he liked to admit.

"You have had a difficult life," she said, still staring, her hand tracing one of the lines of his palm. "This line... it is broken in a great many places. You have known much pain, and your life has been changed by many things that you could not control."

Angelo said nothing. He should have encouraged her, should have made her think that she was right, if he'd really wanted to play the game. But at that moment... he was thinking about how he'd felt when his mother had died, or when he'd ended up in the Abbey and had discovered that his half-brother would never forgive him for being born. He could not bring himself to say anything.

She glanced up at his face before continuing. He wondered if she could see it. "And it is not just your own hardship. You have been touched by the hardships of others. They may not have been your fault, but they have touched you, because the others cannot find a way to come to terms with them themselves. So they lay their burdens on you."

"Yes," he said that time, closing his eyes, turning his head away. "But... but that hardly makes me... unique."

"No," she said gently. "It does not." She let go of his palm with one hand, reached for his other hand. He allowed her to take it, but could not look at her face. "These things... they have made you cold. Uncaring in many ways. Or at least you attempt to be a cold man - you try not to grow too attached to things, to people, because they break your heart in many ways. But not all of you wishes to be like this; it is simply not in your nature. Part of you wants to be able to care about these things. You seek someone who will care for you as well, and demand nothing in return."

"Doesn't everyone?" he asked, trying to sound irritated and short, but he did not think that he managed it.

"Yes, of course. But not everyone is so fortunate. You probably have not been so fortunate since you were very small. I can see the lines of your heart, the love lines... you have been with many women, have you not? But none of those women have been yours. You try to drown your sorrows with fleeting pleasures."

"I... ah..." Not a smooth thing to say. He had moved past smoothness, at least for the moment. "I didn't... I wasn't trying to -"

"It is all right." He could hear the smile in her voice, even though he could not bring himself to open his eyes. "But you will not be happy if you continue to do this. If you are going to learn to trust anyone, you must be trustworthy. Something that my father taught me, a long time ago."

He turned, looked at her, saw that she really was smiling. "You knew what I was trying to do, didn't you?"

"Something else my father taught me," she said, with a laugh. "But you seemed to need someone to talk to. I had hoped -"

She froze then, and there was something strange in her expression. "What is it?" Angelo asked, suddenly worried. "I didn't -"

He didn't have a chance to finish the sentence before he felt a hand fall harshly on his shoulder. "Villain! Seducer! How dare you!" The voice was loud and gruff and harsh, and had the same accent as Valentina, although it was a good deal more frightening.

"Father, please!" Valentina said - which wasn't anything that he had not expected, but still wasn't exactly welcome. "He has done nothing dishonorable -"

"Not yet," he heard the man rage. He turned enough to see his face - a big, curly-haired man in a yellow tunic, with a red face and a huge nose and eyes glaring at him with a hateful expression. "But I will not give him the opportunity!"

"I'm sorry," Angelo said quickly, trying to muster some of his charm. "We were only -"

The girl's father did not answer, at least not in any language that Angelo understood. He heard him mutter something strange, dark words that Angelo did not understand. But he could hear the power in them, he could feel something taking hold on him as the man spoke.

Oh, Goddess, that accent. Of course. The girl and her father were both Roma, and he bloody well should have realized it from the start -

He heard footsteps running up to him as the curse took hold, and a cry - was that Jessica's voice? - as he felt himself topple over on the cobblestones.

\---

He had no idea how long he'd been out when he started to be able to see again. All he knew was that he had lost some time - one minute he'd been lying on the ground, helpless and insensate, and the next he was propped up between Jessica and Loto and being carried, his legs dragging the ground slightly.

"You didn't have to do this, Jessica," he heard Loto say beside him, panting slightly.

"Well, i couldn't let you carry him by yourself," she said breathlessly. "And Yangus isn't up to it."

"'ere, just 'cuz I ain't as tall as th' guv don't mean I ain't strong enuff to 'andle 'im!" Yangus was in front of him, somewhere. He couldn't see very well. He couldn't even open his eyes or move his hands. He was shaking, though. He could at least feel that now.

"Yes, you're strong enough, Yangus. But he's too tall, his knees would be dragging on the ground. Not too pleasant on cobblestones." Loto paused, took a deep breath. "Could you run ahead, have King Trode come to meet us? That would make things a little easier."

"Got it, gov!" Yangus's plodding footsteps sped up - Angelo could feel the ground shaking below his toes - as he ran off.

"Honestly," he could hear Jessica muttering in his ear, "what was he thinking? We leave him alone for a half-hour and he's off hitting on some girl who hardly looked old enough for what he probably had in mind!"

"You were very brave, though," Loto said from the other side of him, and judging from his tone Angelo had to assume that he had no idea what she'd just said. "To tell off Kalderasha like that after he'd just cursed Angelo... I was too nervous to say anything!"

Jessica sighed. "Yes. Well. Angelo might've been an idiot, but he didn't deserve that."

Goddess, Angelo wished that he could speak. He wanted to say something about all of this, but he couldn't even make his own fingers wiggle. All he could do was dangle there and feel mortified about the whole thing.

Soon enough he heard the sounds of hooves clopping against the road, and heard Medea whinny as she pulled to a stop. "Eh? What now?" The King's voice was as grating and obnoxious as it had ever been. Angelo didn't need to be able to see to realize that the man was clearly irritated. "Did someone end up drinking themselves into a stupor? Why was it so important that I be woken from my royal beauty sleep -"

"'ere now, you old codger, I told you Angelo ended up cursed! Jessica and th' guv had to carry the poor sod back 'ere and they wanted a shorter walk!"

"Hmph! Whatever it was, I hope the rest of the trip is going to be quieter. I was having the most delightful dream."

"Yes, well, at least one person won't be speaking for a while," Jessica called out. "We'll have to carry Angelo in the back of the wagon, too. He can't exactly bear his own weight, not for a few miles at least..."

"He can't move? What the devil? What kind of black magic did you lot run into?" A long pause. When Trode spoke again he could hear fear in his voice. "Wait, you didn't run into Dhoulmagus, did you?? He didn't -"

"No, your Highness, it wasn't him. It was someone else. May we have leave to tell you all of the details later? I'm very tired." Loto sounded weary enough to be speaking the truth, and Angelo almost felt for the kid. He knew very well that Jessica was right, and that all of this was his own fault. He just didn't really feel like admitting to it. "Yangus... help me get him into the back."

"I'll ride with him," he heard Jessica volunteer.

"Are you sure, Jessica?" Yangus asked next to him, and he cringed (internally, of course) as two rough, coarse hands lifted him up and started to bear him over to the wagon, or so he presumed. "Awful tight space back there. It ain't gonna be a very comfy ride."

"I can't just let him sit back there alone, can I?" she said crossly, following him. "Now, be careful! Here, you hold him up while I clear some space...."

After a few rummagings and clangings, and a few loud protests of concern for his belongings from King Trode, Angelo felt himself being laid down surprisingly gently on what felt like someone's cloak. "'ere we go, then. You've got enuff room for yerself too, right?"

"I'll make do. Thank you, Yangus. You two shouldn't have any problems scaring off the local monsters, I suppose."

"Oh, no fear! They're pussycats compared to what me and Loto can do, ain't that right, guv?"

"It'll be fine," Loto called. "But we should get going. Remember what Kalderasha said!"

"Right! Let's move out, then!"

There was a moment's pause before the wagon started to roll. He heard Jessica sigh next to him, curled up much closer than he would have expected. "You did bring this on yourself, you know." she said. "He said you would probably be able to hear us long before you could move again. Not that you'd admit to it if you could right now, would you?"

Angelo wanted to make some sort of snide comment very badly, just to let her know that yes, he was listening. But he still couldn't make himself do anything but shiver.

"Honestly. The minute we leave you alone..." she paused for a moment. Then he heard cloth rustling, and presently felt something soft and warm over his shoulders. "But it's like I told him. You still didn't deserve this."

The wagon's wheels made a lot of noise, rattling over the cobblestones. He tried to focus on them, tried to will himself back to unconsciousness.

\---

By the time they got to Port Prospect, Angelo had started to feel somewhere close to normal again. He'd climbed out of the wagon as they'd come to a stop, still a bit shaky but at least able to stand, and joined Yangus and Jessica by the entrance to the town. The stars were out, and the moon was high in the sky; how long had he slept, anyway? A few hours, maybe, or longer. It felt like longer.

"'ey, look who's up!" Yangus slapped him on the back. "You all right, then?"

"Better," he said, wincing a bit. Yangus didn't know his own strength sometimes. "A bit shaky, but I'll survive."

"You're lucky, you know." Jessica's voice wasn't nearly as disapproving as he'd expected it to be. "Kalderasha is apparently a powerful one. You could've gotten a lot worse."

Angelo forced a smile. "I could've won him over," he said, faking as much confidence as he could reasonably manage.

Jessica shook her head. "It didn't look like he was willing to listen to you."

Angelo had been just about to respond, but stopped short when Loto came from around the corner. "The next ship for Peregin Quay leaves tomorrow," he said. "We'll have to stay here tonight."

"Fine by me! It'll be nice, sleepin' in a proper bed again!" Yangus laughed. "The old codger won't be too happy, though. Havin' to sleep out in th' wagon again... although I wager he's gettin' used ta it by now, eh, guv?"

"It'll be fine," Loto answered, laughing nervously. "I'll go and tell the king. You can go ahead to the inn. I'm sure they'll have a room for us."

That suited Angelo just fine; he really wasn't in the mood to keep joking around. He needed to sleep in a proper bed as well.

\---

The next morning came too quickly. He'd fallen asleep as soon as he'd hit the bed, barely remembered walking into the room and lying down. He'd even fallen asleep with his uniform on, complete with gloves and boots. He felt stiff and sore as he stood up, but strong enough to bear his own weight; the last lingering effects of the curse had worn off. The others were already gone, but he was sure he'd find them outside, waiting for him. They wouldn't leave without him.

He took a step to test his legs, and then another. They bore him well enough. He shook his head. "I'll be more careful next time," he muttered to himself, making his way to the common room. "Don't want to cross any more fortunetellers. They're a dangerous bunch -" 

Angelo stopped short as he walked through the doorway. The last person he'd expected to see for quite a while was standing by the counter. "Angelo," Valentina said, her voice more subdued than when they'd last spoken. "Are you all right?"

"I... I'm fine," he said, trying to recover. "I just didn't think I'd... I mean... does your father know that you're here?" He didn't mean to be quite so abrupt about it, but after what had happened to him he thought he'd earned the right to be worried.

"No," she said. "It's all right, though. He's at the market buying supplies that were just shipped over. I... I saw your wagon on the outskirts of town."

"My wagon? I'd hardly call it mine."

"Well... no, not your wagon. But it belongs to the people that you are travelling with, does it not? The ones who helped my father."

"Ah." He exhaled sharply. "So you know Loto and his friends. I see."

"Yes. If it were not for them, my father would not be the man he is now."

"And I suppose that was how you knew so much about my past," he said shortly, before realizing how harsh his voice sounded. It wasn't as if he could blame her for having been cursed; she'd tried to stop her father. "I mean... forgive me. But it seems a remarkable coincidence, doesn't it?"

"Yes, well... it was partially because of that. The woman you travel with, Miss Albert... she spoke of you briefly. And she did say a few of the things that I told you. But most of those things were my own insights. I have heard many sad stories from the men and women who have come to see my father, and men who say such things have a look about them." She smiled sadly. "I am sorry if I have offended you. I merely wanted to help."

"It's all right," he said, and sighed. "I just... wasn't expecting it. Any of it."

"Yes, well, Miss Albert was very angry at my father after he cursed you. She cares for you, you know. Even though she does not seem very good at showing it." She giggled again. "It seems you are not the only person with such problems, yes?"

"I'd like to think so." He smiled back. "I... I hope you can forgive me, Miss Valentina, for my intentions. Your father was right about that, at least at first."

"Perhaps, but it was all right. My father cannot accept that I am learning to care for myself. He is not ready to see me as something other than his little girl." She walked up to him and took his hand. "For now, maybe that is for the best. He needs me right now, and I will not disappoint him. And your friends need you."

"Yes," he said. "Thank you, Valentina. I hope that next time we meet, it won't end in such an ignoble way."

"Then I suggest you stay with your friends while you are in town today. Father was very cowed by their objections. Especially hers." She squeezed his hand, her eyes twinkling, then pulled away. "You'll remember the fortune I gave you, Angelo?"

He nodded slowly. "I'll... I'll do my best."

"Good! Then I'd best go back to the market, or my father will notice that I have left him." She turned away and walked to the door, then looked back at him, and raised her hand in a wave. "Take care!" She bounded out of the door, running quickly across the cobbled streets as the door closed behind her.

Angelo shook his head, laughing to himself. She was going to be a dangerous one, once she was older. He was lucky that she'd meant him no harm. 

Well, he thought, he'd best take her advice. He walked out of the inn, giving the innkeeper a nod as he passed. Jessica was waiting for him outside, standing by the door with her arms crossed. "Still standing this time?" she asked casually.

"You wound me, Jessica. We were only having a conversation."

"Well. After what happened in Farebury, it's amazing that she would even approach you." There was no real bitterness in her voice, though. She sounded almost thoughtful. "You'll be more careful from now on, I expect."

"Of course." He held out an arm to her. "Well, I suppose we'd best go to the port, then?"

"You're offering me your arm? After I had to carry you halfway through Farebury?" She sounded amused by the thought.

"Of course. As far as I can tell, it's the least I can do." He lowered his voice. "Thank you, Jessica. I truly mean it."

"For what? I couldn't just leave you," she said, blushing.

"You stood up to him for me, though. I hadn't... I mean, I just want you to know I'm grateful."

"Well... you're welcome, I suppose." But she did relax, and took his arm with only slightly exaggerated reluctance. "Come on, let's go to the port. The others are already there. Loto and Yangus have been getting the wagon onto the ship."

"Let's not keep them waiting any further, then." He felt better, actually. A bit more cheerful. Maybe Farebury hadn't been so bad after all. He was going to have to be more careful about overprotective fathers, though. That wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat.


End file.
